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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125240">who ever said i gave a shit about you?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/happypuppys/pseuds/happypuppys'>happypuppys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dream team fics [55]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Clay | Dream and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/happypuppys/pseuds/happypuppys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tubbo doesn’t truly like being president.</p><p>(The horns grow out past his hair, further than he liked, further than he wished they would.)</p><p>or, Tubbo doesn't like to be president, but he has a talk with dream</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dream team fics [55]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>who ever said i gave a shit about you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sorry this is bad i just had to write something to distract me from the stress of my 3 midterms left for the week!!!</p><p>however 4 out of the 7 are doen tho</p><p>title from play date by melanie martinez</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tubbo doesn’t truly like being president.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The horns grow out past his hair, further than he liked, further than he wished they would.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing good has ever happened to a president. Nothing good has ever come their way, nothing good has ever happened for them. The best that had happened for the past two presidents (or really, leaders, because was Wilbur even a president?) was the fact that they were now ghosts that got to haunt the land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this what he had left for him? Was this all he had? A dead best friend with no body to be found, and not even a ghost to haunt him? Was this the luck that he got, better going for him than the others?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even notice when Dream had arrived, hadn’t even noticed the man (because that’s all he is, he isn’t his brother, he’s a man, the same one who abandoned him on the side of the road when he was 4) was there until he touched his shoulder. He jerked away from Dream as fast as he could, moving away until he was as far away as he could manage in this space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubs, what-?” Dream starts, but he doesn’t get to finish before Tubbo interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop! You-you’re not allowed to call me that!” He nearly yells, only barely holding himself back, and he sees Dream’s expression before he changes it, sees the anger hidden in his eyes. Is that at the fact that Tubbo is stopping him? Is that at the fact that Tubbo isn’t falling so easily into his trap?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not allowed to call my own brother a nickname?” He asks, and his voice sounds like he’s trying to be playful, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t even reach his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stopped being the brother the day you left me in that box.” He near growls, and he enjoys the flinch that Dream gives at that. “You never really wanted me as a brother, so stop acting like one! You’ve never given a shit about me Dream, I can see that clear as fucking day! You may be my brother by blood, but you sure as hell aren’t my brother by choice, and I’m going to ignore you every chance that I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, sounding just like ole’ dad.” Dream grins, and Tubbo frowns at that. “You look just like him, anyways. Your plans are shit compared to him, though. Don’t think you’d be the type to tell your son to put his brother in a box beside the road, anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He says, expression drops, and Dream turns at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, he’s the one who planned that whole stint!” He says, spreading his arms, but here’s the thing: Tubbo’s the best at reading everyone’s body language on this server, especially expressions, and he can see Dream’s lying straight through hsi fucking teeth. He’ll go along, though. That’s what good presidents do, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lying.” He says, and when Dream laughs, shaking his head, he nearly believes him. “No, no, you’re lying, you can’t be telling the truth, you fucking can’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Tubbo, you think I’d lie about something like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” He says, and Dream only gives him a frown before leaving, leaving Tubbo to his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s the worst punishment of all, isn’t it? Left alone to your own devices? Left to do what you think is best?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s only left to think about the fact that his best friend is dead, and it’s his fault. If he hadn’t fucking exiled Tommy, if he hadn’t listened to Dream’s encouragement, if he just hadn’t become president, then none of this would’ve happened! None of it! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d have Tommy by his side, with the discs in their hands and the sun shining on their faces as they sat on the bench and laughed, alive. He’d have Tommy, who he could touch, who he could hug, any time he wanted, no matter how many times Tommy made awkward jokes about him crying in his shoulder. He’d have Tommy, in his reach, a solid, human body. He’d have Tommy, and that would be enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he has the memory and a tower of cobblestone over a crater, and no body, no funeral. He has no ghost to keep him company, has no one around to help him decide what he can do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s alone in this city with Dream as his only companion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(His horns hurt.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>@newtsmas on tumblr</p></blockquote></div></div>
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